


Hemlock and Skull Masks

by Trickstress



Series: We Built This City [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: And Ryan is just a nerd who pretends to be a tough guy, But isn't that him anyways?, GTA AU, Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew, So immortality isn't an instant respawn, This is Ryan's origin story y'all, non-permanent death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11886177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trickstress/pseuds/Trickstress
Summary: Ryan had always been drawn to knowledge. There was something about having an innumerable amount of time that gave Ryan the urge to learn as much as he could about the world and people around him, especially when things only stayed around for so long. It could also be due to being brought up in a society when the now famous ancient Greek philosophers were at their prime. Man, those days were great."The backstory of James Ryan Haywood, The fearsome Vagabond: muscle of the Fake AH Crew





	Hemlock and Skull Masks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheKiwiJames](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=TheKiwiJames).



Ryan had always been drawn to knowledge.

There was something about having an innumerable amount of time that gave Ryan the urge to learn as much as he could about the world and people around him, especially when things only stayed around for so long.

It could also be due to being brought up in a society when the now famous ancient Greek philosophers were at their prime.

Man, those days were great.

Socrates had been his first teacher and his favorite. Plato had always been a little bitch, playing teacher’s pet. Ryan had gotten the last laugh though when he got to learn so many more things than his childhood neighbor. So what if he got the credit as the more famous student?

Anyways: Socrates had always been Ryan’s, or rather Triton’s, favorite teacher. To the point that he stood with him when the man was imprisoned for “corrupting the youth” of Athens. So, while Plato stayed back and watched as their teacher died by hemlock, Triton decided that he would not stand with the society who turned their back on one of the greatest minds of their time.  
And decided to go out the same way as his teacher.

Granted, it was not the smartest way of proving a point in hindsight. Drinking a cup of hemlock in the town square while proclaiming the genius of Socrates who had just been charged with poisoning the mind of the youth now had a youth dying in his name didn’t really help his teacher’s post-mortem image.

Well, you live and you learn.

Kinda.

He honestly thought that was it though, and he’d end up in the Underworld and that would be it. He even kept some coins on him when he tried to join his teacher for the ferry.

It was when he woke up in the nude in an abandoned house on top of broken pottery that this was proven wrong and young Triton first discovered that he couldn’t stay dead.

He didn’t exactly have a lot of time to process this fact, considering he was first realizing that this was in fact his house and an extreme layer of dust coated all of the surfaces in the small home. 

“Τι συνέβη εδώ;” He muttered as looked around. He brought his hands to his face. “Γιατί είμαι ζωντανός;”

Rather than stay in this clearly old dwelling that he used to call his own, he rummaged through the building and happily discovered that there were still some of his clothes tucked away along with a sack of money that he had stashed away, just in case. After grabbing a satchel, some of his favorite scrolls that he had written under his teacher’s tutelage, and a piece of the broken pottery he had woken on, he left the small house and made his way out into the world. Triton soon discovered that while he was alive once more, thanks to whatever gods decided to return him to the mortal plain, it was not without consequence. He had traveled under the cover of darkness to avoid seeing anyone that he knew however he quickly learned that this wouldn’t be a problem.

Many things about the Athens he knew had changed. Entire buildings had disappeared with grander ones taking their place. It seemed that his little home had avoided being destroyed along with the rest of his neighborhood but if it weren’t for the public buildings still being the same, he would have gotten lost. Sure, some of the streets were the same but the number of additional roads and alleys did not help.

It was only when he asked some merchants the next morning, posing as a traveler who had journeyed to Athena’s city to visit her temple, that he learnt that he had awoken nearly one hundred years after his death.

If that wasn’t startling, he didn’t know what was.

So, stopping at Athena’s temple for thanks that he had been brought back from Hades’ realm, he boarded a boat to anywhere. Triton assumed that he should have been more startled at the fact that he had returned from the Underworld, no worse for wear, and the fact that he still had a body after examining the piece of pottery he had brought with him to find it was one of an urn. To be more precise: his urn. Returning from ash and dust into the same 24 year old body in it’s prime.

No, none of this really caught the young Grecian’s attention.

It was more of the fact that he had so much knowledge to catch up on.

And so, that was how Triton ended up on a ship to Egypt after finding out about a spectacular library that was rumored to have the most knowledge in one place. It’s also where he called his home for the next couple centuries. Never aging a year, just becoming more and more enthusiastic. Living on a boat in the sea because he did not want neighbors to easily discover his secret. Granted, tales did get out and many thought him a demigod of some kind but he pushed off those words and went back to his studying. When he read through the library, except for the daily incoming of new knowledge gathered from the gates, he went out and learned the culture of the Egyptians and their language, their religion, and their customs.

Triton was quite comfortable in this new set up and if he scoffed when his old neighbor’s writings appeared in his sanctuary? Well, he could always slip in some of his writings too. He was mostly busy rewriting the scrolls that came through the hallowed doors so that he might have his own copy.

It was when the Romans seized Alexandria and burned down his sanctuary that he was finally pressured to move. He returned to his now larger ship and sailed east, protecting his thousands of scrolls and lamenting the loss of such a wealth of knowledge.

He lived off his ship for many years, but often found himself going to many different lands and witnessing things that he wouldn’t realize were relevant for many years. Who knew that the man he had shared a meal with one day and shared philosophical debates with would end up with his own disciples and spurning a new religion after his death? By time Triton had reached Rome on his ship, he not only had the written knowledge of the lost library safely in his grasp, he also had amassed a good amount of wealth to keep his travels comfortable. He also finally took up a new name. 

By this time, it had been at least 4 centuries since his childhood and he felt that as he sailed to the newly formed Roman Empire, this would be the perfect time to start fresh. He stopped on the island of Crete and purchased land and some slaves to tend to the place. There, he stored his scrolls and other items and trinkets he had collected over the years. There, he cut a deal with the man and woman that he had bought. Triton would give them their freedom and this place to live in so long as they, or their ancestors looked after this place and kept his possessions safe. They readily agreed. And so, Triton left the island with his possessions safe and looked after, and headed to Rome.

He quickly found a teacher when he arrived in Rome. Learning Latin at such a speed that his teacher laughed and gave him the name Cato, or clever, and the reborn Cato was pleased. The Empire was a great place to be in his quest for knowledge, however he did learn many things he had never delved into before.

Such as the art of war.

The Romans had opened his eyes to strategy, weapons, and battle tactics. He found himself drawn in by the Colosseum. He wrote everything down of course, but now Cato was tempted to learn skills instead of just the written knowledge.

See, this is where Cato had a dilemma.

He had always viewed his first teacher as one of the greatest minds that he had encountered so far and that was a lot to say for being centuries old by this point. The issue, was that for Cato to continue the path he was on, he would have to work with what his teacher’s views were in this new world of Rome. Now, according to this, knowledge was virtue compared to what most would consider virtues such as strength, health, or other things that could be used incorrectly without knowledge. Also, that virtue was many things wrapped up into one such as justice, wisdom, and more which took many different schools of thought and brought them together. Therefore, knowledge. This, Cato reasoned, would work and had worked for a many number of years in his favor. He sought out new thoughts, debated with them and so forth, and learned from them as well as collecting them for further debate when more ideas could be thrown at it. Now, the Romans were much more… violent in a way but how else would he be able to challenge their idea of life other than to learn it and work from there?

Second, would be that no one committed an error knowingly. That an error could be made just by not having enough knowledge about something, therefore doing something wrong. From this, Cato would be correct in that learning things such as war, weapons, and several other things that would be considered ‘unscholarly’ could lead him to some incorrect conclusions unless he learned them. That’s another debate down.

Next would be the desire for good. Now, one would argue that for one to be good would be to virtuous. However, those that would seek bad things would not see them as being bad. This was where Cato was a bit wary but if he was merely learning the various things, and not acting upon them, he was in the clear, right? Also going back to the first point, if knowledge was virtue, what better thing to have?

After that, the fact that Socrates taught that it was better to suffer injustice than to commit injustice. This, he could see happening. For an injustice would be to take men and make them fight in that arena to the death, and those committing them would be the leaders of the empire. Now, Cato was one man with which he could not topple that overnight. It would take time, which he had. A corrupt politician could easily be taken out which would not be an injustice, or a soldier for whom he only fought for his own glory rather than the safety of the empire itself. Cato could see how violence and a knowledge of warfare or weaponry would be effective in defeating such injustices. Therefore, such knowledge learned would help stop the act of injustice over time.

Now, eudaimonism was one of Cato’s favorites. Happiness, or eudaimonia, was not necessarily feeling a certain way, but being that way. Cato lived happiness by learning all he could in the world around him. That one was easy to deliberate.

Finally, that ruling was a knowledge. This one didn’t really apply so all points were leading to Cato learning the craft of violence and weaponry so long as he never used it for an unjust cause.

And so, Cato did.

It was through his studies that he found himself traveling the main peninsula of the empire going from city to city to learn many things about this vast kingdom which was the largest that had existed so far. Cato had already been wearing this new version of himself like a cloak for many decades in this new millennium. It had been over fifty decades since he had left the land of Jerusalem and his insightful talk with the young man with the disciples with whom Rome had executed. He found himself in a port city that had a few things going for it.

It didn’t last for much longer.

Cato had sent a messenger recently to his sanctuary on Crete with numerous scrolls that he labeled with his mark, something he had crafted and had let his knowledge keepers aware of. By now, their descendants had taken up the mantle and found his apparent youth…holy perhaps, and guarded his treasures wisely. It was due to this that they could study from such scrolls that were collected. Cato was merely happy that he could send such things back for safety when things such as this happened. When the large volcano erupted, and the ash and smoke started to smother him, he merely was glad that his things had made it out merely days before.

When Cato awoke, he found himself thankfully in the same clothes that he fell asleep in, however he was in the middle of an empty clearing of stone. The only thing he recognized was the mountain that did whatever had happened to the city which had now vanished.

It had taken several weeks to reach any form of civilization and most of the people had stared confusedly at him, for he had visited Hades’ realm for much longer this time. This time, he had woken up over 400 years after the storm of ash and fire and the great empire had been toppled. Cato merely nodded, accepted the food and drink, told some stories and asked for passage to his land on the island.  
There had been several generations that had passed since he first left his temple of knowledge, and the family had grown larger and larger, even sending out their children to seek knowledge for themselves and bring it back for their benefactor. As such, it was not such a surprise that they did not startle when he appeared once more after centuries of silence. They merely opened up the largest bedchamber once more, taught him what had happened since his slumber and debated with him for hours about numerous ideas that had sprung up over time.

Cato took this time to learn more of the weaponry and inventions that had sprung up in his absence. He had since developed the mentality that training the body was just as important as training the mind. He stayed on his land for 5 years before taking a rucksack and boarding a boat, with some of the younger men of his chosen family and heading north. He traveled to many places in the coming centuries. Once joining a monastery for many years to help the preservation and collection of knowledge, other times he would dine with royals in their palaces and tutor the heir to the throne. He could be a pauper or a well-known scholar. He never stayed for more than a decade in each place however. What Cato did was shed his cloak of identity a few times. From Anglo-Saxon to the Goths, to Germanic, as well as travelling as far east as he could and meeting and learning from races of people who looked completely different than he did, but respecting his willingness to learn their language and culture. He shed names like a snake shed skin.

Now, things were not always peaceful. Numerous times he found himself imprisoned, or ‘killed’. Often, he just referred to that as his slumber. Each time, he would awake many years later, sometimes decade, other times centuries. It didn’t matter so long as he could catch up.

His chosen families also grew in number. The man, as he had now not been known as Cato for many, many years, had decided that keeping all his knowledge in one location would not be a good thing. Just look at that glorious library he had loved all those many centuries ago! Therefore, the fair-haired man with blue eyes chose at least 3 other families in completely different places across the map to guard his knowledge. He told them that if someone wished to study there, and truly would value it, to welcome them as if it was he himself. And so, it was. His numerous properties held his riches and knowledge and if he ever needed them, the families would be there to assist.

And so the centuries passed by. He ‘slumbered’ no less than five times and changed identities over ten times. He met many famous scholars, leaders, generals. All of which had knowledge he wished to learn. He shared his own ideas, theories, passions as well.

It was during his time as James in what was now known as England that he met one of his favorite people in his lifetime: a playwright for whom captivated many, including the royalty of his land. He had a sharp but also crude humor that could delight the upper class as well as the street people as well. This man had lived merely in the blink of an eye compared to James and yet he understood the necessity and playfulness in being able to change visages like a cloak in the shadows. To change and teach in many different forms and understand that not is right in the world but you must make the best of it. Therefore, James held onto this name, with it appearing more than once in his future. He cherished it for the man he had met while wearing this well-loved cloak for finding a much younger, but still kindred spirit.

As the world progressed more and more, and more new lands were ‘discovered’, the man traveled, and he learned. He never did break from his promise to himself in Rome: to never harm other than those who were unjust. It was why he never stuck to one side. He figured himself neutral, stepping in to help balance the scales as the goddess Dikē, but never truly thinking himself as worthy as the pantheon which he still took time to remember and honor. For he never did truly learn the origin of his being, the continued existence that kept him on Earth for so long, and did not wish to offend whichever high power had granted him his wish of continued learning.

It was the 20th century where he realized that he had built a name for himself. The Americans had always been dramatic, ever since their first split with England, and it continued to this day. He had been named “The Vagabond” and due to periods of inactivity since he often found himself with easy access to information compared to the ancient times he had lived, where he would have to travel for so long to learn things, he often would have more free time. With this free time, he spent it using his skills which he had honed over the years to take care of more corrupt individuals.

For some reason, politicians, and many other forms of workers and individuals were corrupted and committed injustices on large scales and he felt the need to do something about it for once. He had the knowledge and resources to do so, so why not try and help where he could? Any money out of it, he secretly gave to those who were suffering under said people who perished due to their own actions catching up to them in the form of a bullet to the skull. “The Vagabond” enjoyed this new title, and due to his love of theater stemming from Will, and the up and coming camera security and soon video technology, he had donned a skull mask, finding it hilarious to wear the visage of death when he himself had been so acquainted with it. He was careful, however, to not die anytime soon because with the increasing rate of technology, inventions and ideas were spawning at an unprecedented rate. He didn’t want to miss any of that, did he?

It was when he delved into the new theories of rocket science that he first donned the name Ryan. It was his favorite, with James now taking the second spot (and Triton would forever hold a fondness in his heart however he didn’t think he could bring it back to life anytime soon). It was Ryan who had ended up working in mission control for the first lunar landing where Neil Armstrong said those famous words. And for humanity to make it from where Ryan was born to exploring space? Well, it just filled his heart with such satisfaction. And who knows what else there was to be learned I the future of space travel?

So, Ryan and The Vagabond lived together comfortably. He could compare himself as a modern version of Robin Hood if he wanted. He still traveled often to visit his chosen families who had kept his secret, millennia later. If he needed to forge a passport, what would it hurt if he used it to further his quest? He was still virtuous and advanced society by dropping hints about his knowledge of so much that had been lost. If a scroll or artifact happened to appear when he helped on an archaeological dig that happened to not be dug up, but had been created there in the first place and matched the timeline perfectly, what would it hurt? And if he excavated where he had died as Cato at Pompeii, who would know what truly happened? He just happened to spent years learning ancient Latin and could decipher text from that era.

He did have some of the most fun as The Vagabond though, when the 21st century came into play and a crew on the west coast of the United States. They had heard of this ‘fearsome mercenary’ who could kill anyone he set his mind on and could pull off some of the greatest heists. He laughed when he got the email but humored them anyway.

When he met the Fake AH Crew for the first time, he was amused at the fact that they were afraid of him. Apparently whispers got around and he was made out to be much more sinister than he was. 

Well, he could roll with that. 

He was The Vagabond, ‘fearsome mercenary’ at night, but now James Ryan Haywood, “Call me Ryan” by day. Professor of ancient studies at a nearby university. The crew were legitimately terrified that he would rarely speak, never took off his mask, and could intimidate easily during their heists which he increasingly took part in. He merely set down simple rules.

No hostages unless they were hired beforehand.

He was on a ‘murder break’ and would only break it only if the person deserved it.

They try anything funny, he would make sure they would learn from it. 

First rule was easy, since he never truly had killed an innocent person before. He had only gone after those whom screwed over other people. Second was more because it made him laugh. The Vagabond was supposed to be ‘a maniac killer’ so why not quell expectations with something more fearsome and they wouldn’t question it? Third rule, they expected violence and would fear that outcome, when Ryan would merely talk it out with them. It was more to prevent him going back into a slumber when he wanted anything but.

It was the slip ups that the others made that led him to realize that these people he found himself sharing a crew with weren’t normal folk.

It was Geoff complaining about how annoying borders were, especially when international borders were so strict nowadays and how “Back in my day, my ship went wherever the hell it wanted to go whenever the hell I wanted it to go.” And lament the days when “those British dicks kept getting their asses handed to them.”

It was Jack knowing way too much about old planes and would give a knowing look at the TV when that one Amelia Earhart documentary was on, whispering under her breath corrections every five minutes.

It was Michael getting enraged enough to start speaking in Italian and denying that fact when he had finally let off some steam. That one wouldn’t be as suspicious if he hadn’t been ranting about modern day art compared to his old teacher who had invented AND done famous works of art at the same time compared to this modern art shit that took garbage and arranged it in a certain way.

It was Gavin giggling every time he watched Mary Poppins and the chimney sweeps appeared, loving his gold items but his most precious ones he guarded with his life happened to be some very old sooty clothes and first edition copies of film reels with “To Gavin” written on them from the original directors who had died decades ago.

It was Jeremy who knew way more about battlefields in WWI and WWII and had a Bostonian accent drop into place randomly during the day but when he was drunk, was suddenly Australian and waxing tales about things had happened nearly a hundred years ago and told them as if they had happened to him yesterday.

Honestly, Ryan felt that despite all his wandering, and these years in his quest for knowledge, he could finally settle down and have a group of friends again and perhaps share his knowledge first hand for once and wouldn’t be ostracized for it.

So long they weren’t as bitchy as Plato.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to give the Immortal FAHC universe with a different spin on it. I also see Ryan as being a complete nerd who doesn't give up on his 'morals' while still fitting into the crew eventually. Hope y'all like it and I'll eventually do the others' backstories as well. The Greek translations are: "What happened here" and "Why am I alive?" respectively.


End file.
